


Fate/TR (Eng Ver.)

by Mango_Cheezle



Category: Chinese History RPF, Chinese Mythology, Fate/Grand Order, Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Chinese Mythology & Folklore, 中文翻译 | Translation in Chinese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:54:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22221259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mango_Cheezle/pseuds/Mango_Cheezle
Summary: Co-Creator: Hi_ganBananaThis work is a translated and modified version of his work.Please be kind as this is my first time writing :)
Kudos: 1





	Fate/TR (Eng Ver.)

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing with @Hi_ganBanana. Thanks!

“This is the tale of the subjects.  
At the imperial court or among the commoners.  
One whose power stretches beyond the ruler, bringing chaos to the regime.  
One whose loyalty surpasses the meaning of life and death.  
One whose ambitions cannot be tamed by the noblest rewards.  
One whose made use like a tool but never once compromised ones’ own ideology. “

In an undiscovered portion of the land lay an untouched meadow, as far as the eye can see. On the surface it seemed pristine, emanating the scents of acre upon acre of wildflowers and humming with the quiet cacophony of woodland beasts. One tower broke the illusion though. A tower stretching halfway up the sky, to the casual observer made of neither brick nor stone but simply like the air was convinced to solidify itself. Like magic. 

At the top of this tower leaned a Mage idly observing the scenery. His garb seemed to be made from the same material as the surrounding landscape, shifting subtly across cultures and time periods whenever the eye wandered. His heavy-lidded eyes betrayed only his keen intelligence and power. 

Though looking like one, the Mage seemed not to have one iota of concern for human affairs. Whether they managed to work to live their lives in bliss or condemn one another to eternal torment mattered not a jolt to him, only how they would react to the forthcoming disaster that threatened to change the world and everything within it.

He stretched out his hand. As if compelled to, a flower bloomed in his palm, beautiful in its seeming fragility. .

He glanced down at the cat sitting beside him, its three eyes glowing with barely-suppressed hunger. 

“The events which we are about to watch unfold will soon engulf the entire globe. You and I have the privilege of watching it unfold. What should we call it? The Sixth Holy Grail War does have a certain gravitas, does it not Or would you prefer the snappier HGWVI?” He purred menacingly. 

The white beast whimpered. 

The Mage foresaw a Holy Grail War happening in a place that it should not be happening in. He does not intend to act on it, neither does he need to. Soon, it would be relegated to a dim corner of his memory, just like everything else he saw. 

The Mages of old called it Bellum Gradalis, or Guerre San-Greal, or the Holy Grail War.

Seven mages each summons an entity to assist them. All fourteen engage in a fight to the death, until one last pair remains standing. 

The pair who destroys the dreams of the other twelve, those who offered the lives of the losers as a sacrifice, will receive an immeasurable amount of magical energy from the grail, which is how the winner is able to actualize his unrealistic dreams.

In the Mage’s Vision

The world was set ablaze, the sky lit not by the sun but by the ominous purple flames lazily licking the skeleton of what used to be a thriving and successful city. Cherry blossoms danced in the foul wind, and bruised vines wrapped around buildings, threatening to smother them to their knees. In place of clouds, a black void appeared in the sky, equally alluring and disgusting in its presentation of absolute nothingness. It appears the city, and humanity itself was swallowed long ago by forces too strong to contain.

Yet beneath this apocalyptic veneer the buildings were erect in their usual majesty, and people scurried about tending to their lives. Two cities were superimposed into one.

How could this be?  
A half naked man asks himself. He stands in the middle of it all, in a crater among the rubble, his clothes has clearly been worn out after a fierce battle. Blood oozing out from wounds all over his body.  
Despite being engulfed by fear and despair, the nobility in him does not allow him to be defeated in the face of adversity.  
Behind him, a body that has been burnt to a crisp.  
‘Master’ was the term the broken man used to address the burnt body, when it still contained life in it.

He has been beaten down, annihilated.  
His body started turning into countless bright particles.  
Without the supply of ‘Magical energy’, the vessel he hosts has reached its limit.

The decimation of the world was beyond his imagination, he felt the very need to correct this end result of the Holy Grail War.  
It is at this point in time, he has made the decision.

Things might have been different if he weren’t summoned as an Assassin, or just if he had te power of Clairvoyance. 

But, being the man who he is, he would have never chosen the other option.  
With the very last of his magical energy, he unleashed his ultimate weapon as a ‘Servant’, the Noble Phantasm.

What he first thought was useless in securing the Victory of the Holy Grail War is now his last chance to the salvation of the World, and himself.


End file.
